its_a_brave_new_world_rpgfandomcom-20200215-history
Alexander Rubeski
Name: Alexander Rubeski Age: 34 Organization: None Statistics Personality: Argumentative, Loyal, Boisterous, Spirited Ability: Enhanced Marksmanship Gender: Male Sexuality: Unknown FC: Anthony Lemke Background view of your previous—-it has been decided—-” The words were chopped. Short, clipped, and nonsensical. All he could remember. But they sounded authoritative. A jolt. Someone shouting his name. He ignored it. The voices were still talking, but he could not understand. He only felt. Relief. A singular sensation. A smirk pulled at his lips. New York was a big place, and one where a whole lot of strange things happened. Maybe that gave some explanation as to what the hell he was doing here. am—honored.” Pride swelled up. A solid, unquestionable feeling of this being right. That he was doing what he was meant to. It was hard enough coming to a new town and hoping for the best, wondering if all the cool kids were going to play ball, or whether He’d have to play ball in their court. What the game was even over was as much a mystery to him as what he was supposed to do once he was there. But from what little he could remember, this was where he was meant to be. Or at least, where others had meant him to be. light flashed before his eyes. Panic. He pulled on the restraints. Muffled voices. His breath came rapidly. His heartbeat increasing in volume. A soft whir as a shining tool was held up, its sharp edges glimmered against the painful white of the facility. Fade to black. His name is Alexander Rubeski, if the card he found on his person is to be trusted. Sure, it looks like him, smiling brightly and ironically looking as if he knew everything. White coat or some kind of ridiculous scientist getup. Or maybe a Doctor’s. But looking at his hands he knows that isn’t true. Doctor’s hands don’t get as beat up as these babies. Besides. A white coat means brains. Something he’s fairly certain isn’t his specialty, especially with the firearm strapped to his leg. Any form of brains he’d been gifted with were telling him the card wasn’t to be trusted. But it was all he had. Well maybe not all, if he counted gut feelings. He knew he didn’t belong here. Everything was all wrong, the buildings, the streets, even the damn people. Something was just…off. Maybe he didn’t know anything about himself, but he felt as if his gut was something he could trust. In a big town like this, that had to be something. quick smile passed between him and another man. Official looking. Grim, and uniformed. A scar over his left eye. Salutes followed. Good luck wished upon him. And back. Then, it was dark. Dark but blinking, fluttering light that almost left him blinded. Dust and particles surrounded him. His breath was teased in and out, slowly and constricted. He felt as if he’d been floating. Electricity hissed. Floating or high maybe. But that didn’t matter. It was time to find out exactly who Alexander Rubeski was. What had happened, and most importantly, what now? Notes * Feels that he’s here for some kind of mission. Doesn’t know what. * Has two sets of tattoos on both shoulders, on the left is written “Settle the Score”, on the right, “Ceasefire”. Ink is still fresh and skin is raw. * He has a shorted out implant behind his eye. It is closely tied into his brain tissue, and removing it would kill him. It may or may not have had something to do with his memory loss. * Proficient in firearms of all kinds. * Fully invested in a “tough guy” persona * Very fond of the song “Defying Gravity”. He knows all the lyrics and often sings along with it. He has no idea why. Makes up nicknames that are of the irritating sort for those he meets. *Names his guns. Category:Characters Category:Male Category:None Category:Enhanced Marksmanship